


Phantom

by FallenFurther



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Failed Rescue, Gen, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Nightmares, Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, References to Thunderbirds, Trauma, Whump, grounded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24479374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenFurther/pseuds/FallenFurther
Summary: Another bad rescue rests on Scott's mind and the nightmares come. Relief comes in the form of Isla Howardson. As their friendship develops, Scott's family becomes concerned. Scott's world starts to unravel but is Isla really the rock he thinks she is? Is Scott ready to accept the truth?
Relationships: Scott Tracy/Original Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	1. Part 1

Scott left the debrief tired and disheartened. It should have been a simple rescue. It shouldn't have been so tough on him. But it had and he was tired. There had been so many challenging rescues in the past few weeks. Sure, there had been a few good ones, where everything had gone to plan, but there had been so many more with fatalities. It was building up in his head and the body count was growing. Scott headed to his room, changed for bed before flopping down on the soft mattress. He didn't fall asleep straight away, his mind still wide awake, a stark comparison to his exhausted body. Eventually he had drifted off, but it was anything but a peaceful night's sleep. He woke up on multiple occasions. His nightmares would be over and forgotten, but the feelings of fear and grief they left behind haunted his mind. When his alarm went off Scott got up. His body felt sluggish and his brain wasn't rested, but he ploughed forward anyway. Nothing could change what happened, but more rescues would soon come in. He had to continue. 

*****

The gala was the last place Scott wanted to be. It had been four days and two rescues since the nightmares had started. He knew he was struggling, and he really didn't want to plaster a fake smile on his face, but he was still Scott Tracy and Scott Tracy had to do these things. Scott shook the right hands and spoke the right words. People were pleased to see him, and many tried to entice him with their current projects. They would have to try again later. Scott wasn't playing ball. 

Then he saw her. Jet black hair, green eyes, and a mischievous smile. She was familiar but Scott couldn't place her. He excused himself and headed in her direction. She locked eyes on him before she started towards the exit. He followed, slightly baffled by her directness. She led him to the balcony where they were alone. Her smile warmed his heart and lifted his spirits in a way he hadn't felt for a while. She was a breath of fresh air in his current stagnant state of mind.

"I'm Isla. Isla Howardson." 

"Scott Tracy." 

He couldn't help looking her up and down. She had on a splendid navy ball gown, one he recognised from a magazine an ex-girlfriend had once shoved in his face. It suited her. 

"It's a beautiful night." 

Scott couldn't fault it. It was warm and the stars were out. They were bathed in the light of an almost full moon. 

"It is. So, what brings you to this gala?"

"Work, I'm a researcher looking for funding."

"What's the project? Maybe I could help?" Scott grinned at her. He knew his dimples would be on full display, and that the moonlight enhanced them. Women just loved his dimples. 

"I'm researching the immune systems of bats in the hope of finding new ways to fight diseases. Have you heard of immunotherapy?"

Scott nodded. He'd touched the basics in his biology classes, though how much he remembered he couldn't say. 

"Basically, I'm looking for ways to improve it, make it work better against solid tumours amongst other things."

"Sounds interesting, do you enjoy your work?"

"I do. I feel like I'm on the forefront. I want to make a difference and if we could just crack immunotherapy, I feel it could help so many people. How about you? What do you do? Do you enjoy it?"

"I'm a businessman and pilot, but I prefer being a pilot. I love flying fast, there's a rush to it." 

"Do you get to fly a lot if you're a businessman?"

"I make the most of what time I can get. Even if it's just a quick flight to another state."

She smiled at him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She slipped out her phone. 

"I'd better go. It's getting late."

Isla was heading for the door and Scott jumped into action. He closed the gap between them with two long strides. 

"Wait! Can I get your number? I might like to fund your project." 

Isla smiled at him and he held out his phone. She hovered hers above his and shared her contact details. Scott watched her walk away. Something about her was familiar. He didn't know her well, but she had brightened up his night. 

*****

The first message he sent her was about her project. He asked for the details of her project, though he did a little research of his own while he waited for a response. Isla Howardson was the lead researcher on the Blumenbach Immunotherapy project at Crifton Group. It was a fantastic and clean company; one Tracy Industries had a good working relationship with. Scott made a personal donation from his funds and added the project to the approval list for the Lucille Research Grant. 

Scott slipped in a few questions about how she was doing and soon they were corresponding regularly. Isla understood his long hours, and never expected anything from him. As the months passed by Scott became comfortable with the relationship they had. He trusted Isla so much that he started to confide in her. He would let slip a concern or worry he had, and she was always the voice of reason he needed.

One evening, after a tough morning rescue, Scott had been working on some files for Tracy Industries, while his Dad took over the command duties for International Rescue. It was coming up to 1900 hours and Scott would normally work until at least 2200 hours if not later. However, tonight he was wound up and needed to talk, he needed someone to confide in. Scott packed up and saved what he had been doing before heading to his room. Locking the door, he located Isla's number on his comm and dialled it. They had only occasionally spoken face to face, but he felt the tension fall from his shoulders when she answered. 

"Hello Scott!"

Her smile worked its way through his walls, pulling down his barriers and washing away the stress of the day. Isla was in her jeans and old rock T-Shirt. It was the kind of t-shirt Alan would wear, and she wore it well. 

"Hey Isla, how was your day? 

"Brilliant, I think we're making progress. Same back?"

Scott sighed. He looked at the hologram knowing he couldn't hide his sadness from her anymore. 

"It's been tough. So many things went wrong. People were seriously hurt, and some died. Sometimes I just can't take seeing so many people die. I know I've been trained for this. The Air Force sure as hell prepared me for so much, but I just can't take any more bodies. I can't watch anyone else die."

Isla floated before him. He'd already told her about International Rescue. He could see her face thinking, its features frowning slightly as she thought of the right words to say. He knew she'd say the right words. She always did. 

"You don't have to watch them die, Scott. You could just be a businessman, and a pilot on the side."

Scott's heart raced at the thought and he wanted to fight back. She was suggesting that he give up International Rescue, that he stops doing his job. He couldn't do that. He was born for this. This is what felt right to him. It was the best piloting gig in the world. 

"I can't give up International Rescue."

"I know." Isla looked at him, her caring gaze held his. "But you've always had to face the fact that not everyone can be rescued. People will always die. You need to think of how many you've saved."

Scott sat back, his fingers running through his hair. The thought of giving up International Rescue was still harder than the difficulty he faced when he went into a rescue. The dread of the next death count. Each one adding up. Another mark on his conscience. He pulled his knees to his chest, closed his eyes to the world and fought the tears. The nightmares would come tonight. He knew it. 

"It's going to be okay, Scott. You'll get through this."

Scott focused on his breathing. His fingers gripping his hair. How could this get better? How could he face another rescue? The tears seeped through his eyelids and soaked into his jeans. He couldn't be strong anymore. He couldn't face another death. 

"You don't have to be strong, Scott. It's not a weakness."

Scott finally raised his head and looked at his friend. Isla was his best friend. He needed her. She was always there, always ready to help. She never complained about her life or work or the difficulties she faced. She took them head on. His breath was steady now. The panic passed and his thoughts straighter. He even managed a small smile. 

"Thanks Isla. I needed that."

"I know you did, Scott. I'm always here for you."

"I'd better get to bed."

"That sounds like a good idea. Goodnight Scott."

"Goodnight Isla."

Scott changed and climbed into bed. He fell asleep quickly, emotionally exhausted, but the nightmares came.


	2. Part 2

Scott was called into his Dad’s office. Virgil, John, Grandma and Dad were all there, a mix of worry and concern on their faces. There was a chair before them, and he knew they wanted him to sit. Scott was on edge. Something didn’t add up. This felt like an intervention. Dad indicated to the chair, so Scott sat. He wanted to bolt. 

“Scott, we're concerned about your behaviour.” His dad’s voice was level and calm, his blue eyes fixed on him. 

“What behaviour?” Scott questioned, fear building up in his stomach. 

“Scott, you’ve not been yourself for a while.” Virgil spoke, “You’ve been pushing us away. We let it happen at first as your work life balance was finally improving, but now we feel like you are retreating away from us.”

Scott couldn’t speak. The words resonated, even though he hated what that meant. He would never push his family away! He just needed space. He needed time to chat with Isla. Isla who understood him, who was there for him. 

“Scott, dear. You don’t speak to us anymore. Virgil says you haven’t opened up to him like you used to. We’re worried you’re bottling things up. We all know how hard it can be. We’re here for you.”

“I haven’t been bottling it up. You don’t have to worry about that. I speak with Isla, she supports me.”

Scott saw John wince slightly. His normally space bound brother’s eyebrows were creased and he was tense. John didn’t like Isla. He could see it in the man’s posture. He looked over each member of his family as he spoke. 

“You don’t like Isla, do you?”

They had tried hard to hide their reaction, but Scott saw it in the small motions they couldn’t stop. The clench of Virgil’s bicep, the crinkle in the corner of his Grandmother's eye and the twitch of his Dad’s little finger. Immediately Scott was on the defensive. How could they not like Isla? She was the only thing keeping him together. How could they not see that she was good for him? His heart rate had increased, and he felt like a tightened elastic band. This was an intervention. They wanted him to stop speaking with Isla. Fear and panic started to rise with the bile in his stomach. 

"What's wrong with Isla? She's not a security risk, and you know it." 

Scott watched as they looked between each other, John's face now a frown. His arms were tightly crossed, and his eyes were fixed on him. Scott had to fight the urge to storm up to his brother and challenge him. It was John who broke the tense silence. 

"She's not a security risk, but that's not the problem we have here, Scott. Have you actually met this Isla?"

"Yes. I met her months ago at a business gala. She beckoned me to the balcony and that's how I found out about her research. We chatted about her research, I sent her some funding and we became friends."

The room went silent. He could tell they wanted to talk this through but couldn't. They were out their depth. Scott could use that. He could work with it. He could get out of this. 

"We'd like to meet her." His Dad stated. 

Scott was taken back. He hadn't expected that, and neither had the rest of his family by their surprised expressions. Dad put his hand up, stopping them from saying anything. 

"Do you think she'd like to come visit the island? She knows about International Rescue, so we wouldn't have to worry about covering it up."

Scott was shocked. The tension slipped a little from his body as the excitement of having Isla on the island sunk in. To have her here, even for a short while, would make things better. Maybe he'd even sleep without nightmares. 

"I'll ask her tonight. See if she could get leave." 

Scott stood and when no one spoke, left the room. He knew this wasn't over. They were worried about him, and Scott couldn't fault them for it, he still had the nightmares. But he was coping, his work wasn't affected, and he had Isla to help him through. He just couldn't understand their concern about her. Especially as John had clearly done a background check. She was clean, and they all knew it. Scott headed back to his room and locked the door. He collapsed onto the bed, pulled out his phone and shot Isla a quick message. 

Are you still free tonight?

The response was almost immediate. 

I'm free now.

Scott shot up, his fingers already calling her number. Moments later her hologram was floating above his wrist. He felt his shoulders relax and he let out a breath.

"What's wrong Scott?"

Scott raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing it, not knowing where to start. 

"I think my family just did an intervention on me."

"You think? Normally those things are obvious. What were they worried about?"

"Me. Me and my relationship with you."

"They don't like me, do they?"

Scott was surprised she'd got there so fast, that she knew what their worries were. How? Had this happened to her before? Had she expected it? 

"No, they don't."

It was a whisper. He wanted his family to like her. She was his friend, the one who'd got him through so much. He needed her. 

"What did you expect, Scott?" 

Scott looked up from his bed and gazed into her face. She was sincere. 

"For them to fall in love with you. To be happy that I'd found someone I could trust and confide in."

Isla's expression of pity angered him. He didn't need pity. He needed his family to understand. How could Isla be so, so calm, so indifferent to their opinion about her. 

"They want to meet you."

"Do you think that's wise, Scott?" 

"Yes, of course it is! Why wouldn't it be?" His voice was raised, his frustration at the situation taking over. "If they meet you, they'll understand. They'll let us be."

"You know why that won't happen, Scott." 

"It will. I promise you. Will you come?"

"Do you really want this?"

"Yes."

"I'm on leave next week."

"I'll pick you up Saturday."

"I'll be waiting, Scott."

*****

Scott was anxious. His Dad wouldn't let him fly Tracy 1 and had insisted on coming. As had Virgil. Scott couldn't sit still, every muscle in his body as tense as the atmosphere. Virgil tried to lighten the mood, but the frown never left his eyes. The worry in Virgil annoyed Scott. Virgil was treating him like glass, and it wasn't right. Scott was okay. 

The feeling of the wheels on the runway was almost a relief. Scott was up and out the plane the moment the door was open. He could hear Virgil running to catch him. Scott headed straight for the private lounge where Isla would be waiting. Scott knew she would be there despite his family's doubts. A huge grin spread across his face when he saw her perched on one of the seats. Isla looked up at him, her smile warmed his heart. She stood and Scott almost ran up to her and hugged her, only to change his mind at the last minute, his hands hovering near her shoulders as he gazed down at her. 

"Hello Isla."

"It's good to see you, Scott." 

She chuckled, though her eyes were tinged with sadness. Scott followed her gaze to Virgil; whose face was that of shock. Good. Isla was real. She was here and nothing could change that. Virgil would have to be nice. But Isla gave him a sad smile. 

"You really want this don't you?"

"Yes!"

How could she doubt him? She meant so much to him! How could he not want her to meet his family, to visit their island, to stay? His hand reached for hers only to hesitate just before contact. Was she ready to hold hands yet? Instead Scott beckoned her forward towards his waiting brother.

"Virgil, Isla. Isla, this is my brother, Virgil." 

Isla nodded beside him, but Virgil just gaped. Scott felt anger building up. How could Virgil be so rude!? He hadn't even offered to shake her hand or say hello. At this point his Dad entered the room. They all turned to him and to Scott's horror he mirrored Virgil's expression. Why? Why were they acting like this? Scott's hands clenched. Why were they like this? 

"Isla's here and ready to go, Dad." Virgil stated. 

Dad looked at Scott and around the room. Isla hadn't brought much stuff, just the large suitcase she was pulling. He should take it. 

"Alright then, let's get back to the island." Scott didn't miss the uncertainty in his father's voice, but he nodded in Isla's direction and turned to leave. Scott gave Isla a smile, hoping his family's cold response hadn't made her want to turn around. Her smile was small, but she followed him to the plane, letting him pull her case. 

Virgil stayed with them for take-off, before excusing himself and heading to join Dad in the cockpit. Scott didn't mind. He had Isla and they chatted the whole way back. The tension started to leave his shoulders and he was able to sit back in the seat. Isla refused to let him help with her case at the other end. Scott stood at the base of the steps as she took slow careful steps with the big bag. Virgil and Dad were beside him, still not saying much. 

"I'm going to take Isla to the guest room and get her settled in." 

The other men nodded, before leaving Scott and Isla alone. Their unease was unnerving, and Scott was happier once they'd left. Once up in the guest room, after many expressions of awe at both the luxury and view from the round house, Scott helped Isla put things away. Scott warned her that Thunderbird Three took off through the building; even with the soundproofing a rumble still passed through the building. They had a laugh at the stories Scott told of moments on the island with his family, but Scott hated that he dreaded the family dinner ahead. His stomach churned with every step towards the dining room. Isla was silent beside him, picking up on his mood. They were all there ready, nervous faces turning their way as they entered. It was awkward. Even Grandma's smile was forced as she placed the bowl of peas in front of Isla. The meal was subdued, very few words spoken. It was so unlike a normal Tracy meal. Normally there was laughter, jokes, Gordon or Alan getting told to settle down. Tonight, there was little joviality and everyone slunk off quickly once finished. Scott excused Isla and himself and they headed to his room. 

"I'm sorry about that. I don't know what's gotten over them. They normally aren't like that."

"It was to be expected, Scott. You knew that."

"No, it wasn't, Isla. They should have been themselves. They should have welcomed you with open arms. But they didn't!"

He was angry and the look of pity Isla gave him only stoked the fire in him. Why did she keep giving him that look? What was he missing? Why was everything so wrong? Scott ran his fingers through his hair, pacing the room. Isla just watched. The growls and grunts he let out were animalistic, but Scott didn't know how to express himself any other way. He was wound up. 

"Settle down."

Scott turned to Isla and yelled. 

"How can you be so calm? They were awful to you! Ignored you! And you're not angry? You're not hurt? Isla, they are in the wrong! Don't you understand this?"

Isla blinked, got up and left the room. Scott fell onto his bed and growled in anger. His hands fist. He wanted to hurt something. To feel pain. For someone to feel like he did right now and understand. How could Isla not understand? Scott lay on the bed the rest of the evening. His anger coming and going until guilt settled in. It wasn't Isla's fault. He shouldn't have yelled. He invited her to his home only to yell at her. He was a pig. He was awful. Scott stood up and headed to the round house. With each step he knew she'd be packed and ready to leave in the morning. He'd scared her off, isolated himself from the person he'd come to rely on. He knocked on her door. 

"Come in."

Scott entered. Isla's case was where they had left it. Her items were still unpacked around the room. Relief filled him. She wasn't leaving. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled."

Scott sat down on her bed and she perched next to him. 

"I forgive you. You're hurting, Scott."

Scott dared a glance up at her face. It was calm and there was no pity. Only warmth and a smile. Scott felt relieved. He still had his best friend. 

"How about we do something relaxing tonight? Like watching a film?"

Scott nodded. They headed out to the guest lounge and curled up on the sofa together. They put on a comedy. Scott didn't find it very funny but sitting with Isla felt right. He drifted off halfway through, falling asleep on the couch. He woke up there after a nightmare free slumber, for the first time in weeks.


	3. Part 3

Scott spent his free time over the next week with Isla. Missions obviously interrupted them many times, and Isla was happy to just sit with him in the office when there had been paperwork that Dad couldn't do for Tracy Industries. She would lie or curl up on the couch with her tablet as he worked away. He'd give her quick glances, grounding himself as he worked. They had only one other meal with the whole of his family. Occasionally, one of his brothers had joined them as they ate, but his family tended to avoid them. His family still weren't comfortable around Isla, but Scott was getting used to ignoring it. He was the happiest he'd been in months, and he was dreading Isla's departure. Sitting with her on her penultimate evening on the island, Scott took a chance. 

"Would you stay?"

Isla's face screwed up with shock and uncertainty. 

"Your family don't want me here."

"But I do. I need you here."

"I have to go back to work. I have a project I can't abandon."

"We could set up a lab here. You could work while I do, then we can spend the evenings together."

"You really want this, don't you Scott?"

"Yes, I do. I can make it happen."

"If you're sure."

"I am. I'm going to tell Dad now."

Scott ran from the room. Dad was in the lounge with Grandma, watching one of her shows with her. Scott could tell it was almost over, so waited impatiently. He wanted to get back to Isla. When the credits started, his Dad turned to him. 

"How can I help, son?"

"I want Isla to stay on the island."

Scott spat it out fast. His two elders couldn't hide their shock. Scott rolled with it. 

"We can set up a lab in one of the storerooms. She can still do her project from here. She may need to leave every now and again, but she could video into meetings most of the time."

His Dad frowned, brows knitting together. 

"I don't think that's a good idea Scott."

"Why?"

"Scott. Isla is…" Dad placed his hand to his face, whatever he wanted to say was hard, but Scott didn't stop.

"Isla's brilliant, Dad. She's my friend and I don't want her to leave. I need her."

Dad's eyes investigated his own. They were full of worry. Scott watched his father's shoulders fall. 

"I'll think about it. We'll discuss it more tomorrow."

"Jeff."

Grandma's hand was on Dad's shoulder, but Dad raised up his hand to stop any argument. Scott smiled and left them to it. He was certain they were about to change their evening plans to discuss Isla. She wasn't going to be leaving this island, Scott was certain of that. 

*****

Scott entered Dad's office. He'd been summoned, as expected. He'd left Isla in her room. He'd told her not to pack. Scott sat down on the empty chair feeling more confident this time. Virgil and Grandma stood beside his father, all concerned. He knew there would have been a conference. He was surprised John wasn't here too. 

"Scott, we've discussed the possibility of Isla staying. We aren't happy with it, but considering the circumstances, we have been advised to let her stay."

Scott smiled. He knew he'd get his way. 

"There will be conditions though." 

Dad paused to let it sink in. Scott had expected conditions, just not what he heard next. 

"The first condition is you see a psychiatrist. We have one lined up for you."

"I don't need a psychiatrist."

"You will see the psychiatrist, Scott."

Scott crossed his arms. He wasn't happy, but it was an easy sacrifice. Either the psychiatrist will write him off as well and no more would be said, or he might actually be able to help with the nightmares. The idea of no more nightmares sounded fantastic. Having Isla around helped but they would still come, leaving terror in their wake. 

"Fine, I'll see the psychiatrist. The second condition?"

Scott watched his father steal himself. Scott shifted in his seat. His heart started to beat faster with every passing second. What could be worse than a psychiatrist? Virgil stepped around the table and positioned himself closer to Scott. What was Virgil preparing for?

"You're grounded, Scott."

"What!?" 

Scott was on his feet, anger rushing through his veins. 

"You are no longer an International Rescue operative. You no longer have access to International Rescue files or craft. You can enter the hangers, but if you abuse the privilege you will be locked from there as well."

Virgil had come up beside him and taken his arm. Scott tried to pull away, but his younger brother held tight. Virgil slipped his fingers around Scott's other bicep and held him back. Virgil was stopping him from getting close to Dad. What did they fear he'd do? 

"Your pilot license has also been suspended. Once you are deemed fit, it will be reinstated, along with your operative status." 

Scott could see the finality in his Dad's eyes. He got to keep Isla, but this was the cost. Disbelief replaced the fury as he slumped to the floor, Virgil lowering down with him. How would he cope without Thunderbird One, without International Rescue to focus on. Was Isla enough? 

"Scott, I'm going to take over most of your Tracy Industries duties and only give you what I believe you can handle."

"Was I not doing it well enough?" Scott whispered, almost a sob.

"Scott, you're not well. You need to get better."

Scott stared up at his father and grandmother. They were serious and he just knelt on the floor, Virgil supporting him from behind. Scott was devastated. They knew what this was going to do to him. No more International Rescue. No more flying. They were taking so much away from him, all because he was clinging to Isla. Why? Why can't they accept Isla? 

Virgil pulled him from the floor and slipped his arm behind his back. Scott felt Virgil nod to the others, before leading him out of the office and to his room. Scott was placed on the bed, where he sat, eyes focused on the floor. Virgil knelt before him, forcing himself into Scott's line of sight. Concern filled his brother's face.

"It's just you and me, Scott. Talk to me."

"I can't be grounded. I need to fly, Virgil."

Virgil sighed. "We wouldn't do this if we weren't concerned for your safety. It's not safe for you to fly anymore Scott."

"But I need to fly."

"I'll take you up, Scott. On those days you need to be in the air, but you need to get better first."

The tears finally came. Virgil's arms encompassed him, and he wept. Scott knew he wasn't right. He needed rid of the nightmares. His family had finally made him see that. They had reached out to him when he didn't want to admit it himself. Scott cried himself to sleep on Virgil's shoulder.


	4. Part 4

The next day was spent setting up Isla's lab. Most of the things she needed were either available on the island or easy to ship in. Scott placed an order for what they didn't have. It was a small room, but Dad hadn't allowed one of the larger ones to be used. Isla insisted it was fine, so Scott didn't make too much fuss. There was a rescue that day, and Scott watched as Alan flew Thunderbird One. Isla stood beside him as his Thunderbird flew out the pool. They had gone straight to his room afterwards; Scott needed the time to calm down. It hurt so much, not being able to fly. Even maintenance was out of bounds for him. He was so frustrated, but Isla stood by him and helped him calm down. 

The day after that was his first appointment with the psychiatrist. Isla stayed behind, using the time to focus on her project. Grandma flew him out and sat in the waiting room. He told the man about the nightmares. Scott felt better admitting them to the professional. That became the discussion of the hour. Grandma treated him to a coffee and a cake in the local coffee shop before she flew them home. It felt wrong sitting alone in the back, so he sat in the co-pilot's chair, though he had to promise not to touch anything. Just before he got up after landing, Grandma put her hand on his leg and squeezed. She smiled at him. 

"I'm proud of you, Scott."

The words sunk into his heart. He wanted to get better, he had to. He couldn't stay grounded. They walked through the hanger together, before he left her to head to Isla's lab. Scott didn't miss the change in his Grandma as he left her. 

*****

Scott settled into a routine. He'd have breakfast with Isla, before spending the morning in the office doing the Tracy Industries work Dad had given him, before having lunch with Isla. They'd then spend the rest of the day in her laboratory, Scott cleaned beakers and took notes to help her out. He knew so much about her project now; he could advertise it. He'd continued to donate towards her research, although now he donated his time too. It all went through the official routes and some was spent by the others in the Isla’s research group. They were all working towards the same goal, but from slightly different angles, in the hope one would get it to work. Scott just enjoyed Isla's company. They would then have dinner together before relaxing in the evening. 

Twice a week he saw the psychiatrist. Whoever was free would fly him out. Mostly this was Dad or Grandma, with Virgil occasionally volunteering. John was never down, and Scott couldn't remember the last time they had spoken, but it couldn't have been that long ago. Gordon and Alan tended to stay away, apart from the one-time Alan had to take him to his appointment. Alan had changed the topic whenever Isla came up, to the point of asking for silence. Scott had been shocked but could see the way Alan gripped the controls. Scott didn't want to hurt his little brother, so he held his tongue. Those were the tough days, the days his brothers seemed distant. Alan often looked at him like he was a stranger, which hurt. Especially when he and Isla joined in the movie night. Slowly they stopped joining in, preferring to watch films alone in the round house. Scott had to admit, he was spending more and more time up there, away from his family. He would fall asleep with Isla on the couch. He had stocked up the kitchen, so they didn't have to eat with the others. Isla seemed okay with the arrangements. She wasn't bothered that his family never warmed to her. She repeated the same phrases over and over when Scott brought it up. 

"It was always going to be this way, Scott."

"They were never going to welcome me."

"They're just worried, Scott. You're not well."

"You knew this would happen."

Yet Scott didn't understand. He knew his psychiatrist was trying to get him to comprehend something, but Scott just couldn’t see it. Isla wouldn't say it out loud and his family tiptoed around him. So Scott just continued with his routine. Occasionally he'd get angry at the situation, other days he'd watch Thunderbird One leave the island without him and just sit on his balcony until Isla came to fetch him. She looked after him, making sure he ate and slept. The nightmares still came. They were starting to take their toll. Months without sleep and his body and mind were tired. There were days when he just couldn't focus on his work. He knew his productivity had dropped, but he was powerless to help it. He told this to his psychiatrist. He liked talking about Isla, though Scott couldn't always take in what he was saying. There had been multiple mentions of residential treatment, but Scott refused. He wanted to stay on the island. 

*****

Isla wasn't in her laboratory when he looked in having just returned from his latest therapy session. For the first time in a while his heart didn't race at the thought of not knowing where she was. His mind was still focused on something his psychiatrist had said. Something had been awoken in Scott's head. Something he didn't want to think about, something he knew he had to acknowledge before he could get better. It was the cause of the nightmares. Scott headed up through the villa and took one of the paths up to the cliff. He knew Isla would be there, gazing out over the ocean. He'd shown her this spot. This little sanctuary he often retreated to when he needed to think away from distractions. She gave him a sad smile as he sat down beside her. The wind whipped their hair and their eyes met. His hands shook. 

"I can't stay, Scott."

"You don't have to go."

"Yes, I do. Your family needs you."

"But I need you."

"Do you still believe that?"

Scott stared into her sorrowful green eyes.

"Yes."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're lying to yourself, Scott. Admit it."

Scott's voice caught in his throat. His hands shook and he could feel the tears forming in his eyes. He didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to face the truth. His eyes turned to the sea, rough and expansive below him. Scott had to admit to the truth. That's what Daniel, his psychiatrist, had said. He had to acknowledge the truth. 

"I'm dead, Scott."

Scott shook his head, eyes on the horizon. His heart breaking. 

"No, you're not."

"I am. You know I am."

"I need proof." 

Scott turned to her. Her black hair was flying wildly but her green eyes held steady. 

"Prove to me that you are dead."

"Tomorrow."

Isla got up and left Scott, who continued to stare out to sea. The cold of the wind was seeping through his shirt, but he relished it. It matched the pain he felt. His world was starting to crumble with the tears that slipped down his face. 

*****

Scott sat in Tracy One. Grandma and Virgil were in the cockpit flying him out to the meeting. It was a break in his routine. Isla was sitting in the chair next to him. Scott didn't know what to say. The conversation from last night was still fresh in his mind. The plane shuddered as it hit some turbulence. 

"Why are you here?"

"Because you want me here. If you don't want me here, I could go."

Isla stood up and a familiar panic filled Scott. 

"You don't want me to go."

Scott shook his head. He still wanted her. Isla was real. She was real to him. Was that not enough? Why could no one else see that she was real?

"You know I'm not, Scott."

*****

Daniel met them at the airport, but it was Isla Scott followed to a graveyard. She walked through it confidently, heading straight to one headstone. She stood before it expectantly. Scott came up behind her before kneeling to read the name etched into the black stone. 

Isla Howardson

The date of death is exactly a year ago. The dread fills Scott. His lungs craved air which he pulled in with short sharp breaths. Tears filled his eyes. She's been dead a year! How? Scott fell to the grass. He knew how. 

He thought back to a year ago. The rescue that had gone so horribly wrong. She'd been trapped but was unharmed. Isla had been fine until he'd turned up. She had been lively, joking about the situation like Gordon often did. She hadn't been scared. He'd decided to take her the shortest way out. Flying Thunderbird One remotely, he'd tried to lower the safety grapple in the hopes to raise them up. Not the best, but he'd done it on other occasions before with great success. That time Thunderbird One had lost air, an unexpected wind swinging her to the side as they were on the end. The cable had swung against the wall and Isla's head slammed into the cold hard rock. Scott had grabbed her, kept her from falling, but the wound bled. Her body went limp in his arms. Scott had gotten them out and he had rushed her to the nearest hospital. It had been touch and go, but the staff had sent him away. They had told him to leave her in their hands. The guilt had stayed with him. They had operated on her to try to ease the swelling on her brain. At debrief, John had told him she hadn't made it. Scott had struggled with the guilt, the events replaying in his mind. He re-lived the various occasions when people had died in front of him, or because of him. He had blocked out the trauma. Hidden it away until his family started to see it months and months later. 

Scott looked up. Isla had been replaced with Daniel. More tears fell as the man bent down and placed his hand in Scott's shoulder. 

"Do you remember now? Do you understand what happened?"

Scott nodded. He couldn't speak it yet, but he knew they would discuss it eventually. 

"She was all in your head, Scott." 

Scott nodded and resumed gazing at the name on the stone. 

"I'll give you some time."

Scott just sat there. His head started to run over the past year, trying to see Isla as dead. Closing his eyes against the thoughts of what his family had seen. All those looks started to make sense. Footsteps came up behind him. He wasn't ready to go yet. 

"Did you know her?" A familiar voice asked. 

Scott wanted to ignore her. She wasn't real. He had spent a year relying on someone he had made up. But the question was weird, it didn't make sense. He glanced over his shoulder and there she was. Except instead of jeans and a crop top, she had on a flowery summer's dress. The only time he'd seen Isla in a dress was at the gala. The other strange thing was the glasses. Her green eyes were gazing down at him through thin black frames. There was a sadness in her expression and a warmth in her eyes. In her arms was a bunch of white and purple flowers. 

"Briefly." Scott replied.

"She was a wild one, wasn't she?" A small smile came to the woman's lips. 

"Yes."

Scott was confused. The woman placed the flowers down, before taking a cloth out of her bag. She started cleaning the grave. He glanced over towards the path where Daniel was standing. He nodded. 

"You look like Isla."

The woman stopped. She gave him a curious look. 

"You really did only meet her briefly, didn't you? She normally brags about how different we are. I'm her identical twin, Sophie."

Sophie held out her hand and he took it. She felt real. He suddenly realised he'd never touched Isla. So many times he had stopped himself just before contact was made. Suddenly he had so much to ask. He had a deep need to know Isla, the real Isla, to separate her from the person he'd made up. Sophie finished cleaning the grave and placed the flowers in front of it, before sitting beside him. He was gawking at her. 

"I miss her. Did you know she was rescued by International Rescue? She would have loved that. Bragged about it. She would have told me, and anyone who would listen, every single small detail. Would have gone on about it for years."

"You still think positively about International Rescue?"

Scott had to ask. Did she even know the circumstances? They sometimes received hate mail from grieving loved ones. Was she one of them? He wouldn't blame her. 

"Why would I? They were there when no one else could be. They gave her a chance. I'm glad she wasn't alone. I sent them a thank you letter a few months back, when I finally felt able to. I know it's not enough but it's all I could do."

Scott turned back to the grave. He had made up Isla as a way to cope with the trauma. One trauma too many. He had wanted Isla to live so much that he'd saved her the only way he could. He'd made her alive to him. Yet in doing so he'd forgotten himself and pushed away his family. 

"Thank you."

Sophie smiled at him. "If you ever want to talk about her, just message me."

Scott nodded. He said goodbye and headed to Daniel. He took one last look back. He finally knew he was on the road to recovery. 

*****

Three months of treatment and Scott had slept two weeks without a nightmare. He had consented to residential treatment after visiting the graveyard. Daniel had supported him through it, and it had helped him break the habits he'd developed over the last year. Slowly, Scott felt better. He saw a grief counsellor, who helped him come to terms not just with Isla's death, but the others he'd seen, and prepared him for the ones he was going to see. There had been so much to unravel but seeing the way his brothers reacted when they visited was worth it. He set up a weekly gaming session with Alan and was back to going to every family film night, no matter how awful Dad's film choices were. Daniel had advised against getting in contact with Sophie again, not wanting to trigger a relapse, but he had visited her research team. Scott continued to fund their work, as a way of keeping her legacy alive.

He was now back on the island and setting up a new routine. It would go out the window the minute he was cleared for duty again, but it kept him busy. He had finally taken Virgil up on the offer of a trip in their small plane. Virgil refused to relinquish the controls when Scott complained about it being a big tease. His hands itched for the control, stirred by the sensation of flying, and the adrenaline it released into his system. Virgil just grinned at him and Scott knew he was beaten. Dad had even let Scott sit in when Alan tested Thunderbird One's newly repaired engine. Scott needed to feel his ship again, and was impressed at how Alan's handling had improved. Three more weeks of waiting. In three weeks they were going to reassess him for missions. Scott was counting the days. He was on the road to recovery. Soon he'd be well enough to be a pilot again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’ve enjoyed this whump as much as I enjoyed exploring the topic. It seems fitting that the last part being posted on a tough day, after this whole story coming about after one. Thank you to everyone who has read it.


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